


Stories of the Second Self: Inner Candle

by John_Steiner



Series: Alter Idem [51]
Category: National Guard - Fandom, Urban Fantasy - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:02:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22534411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_Steiner/pseuds/John_Steiner
Summary: Captain Paul Appelbaum is called to question a young werewolf woman detained by the Ohio 52nd Weapons of Mass Destruction / Civil Support Team. He learns that the reason is she can exert a form of pyromancy that casts as a spell whatever is written on the things she burns. Determining the threat she poses is at odds with Paul's wish to see her as someone just handed power much as Paul himself had been granted.
Series: Alter Idem [51]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618813





	Stories of the Second Self: Inner Candle

"One of the most unique magical talents I've ever seen, Paul," Major Craig Linton said to him.

They both were in a cell block hastily built by the 52nd Weapons of Mass Destruction / Civil Support Team. It was composed of fire resistant cement and ceramics catered to every prisoner imaginable, which allowed someone of Paul Appelbaum's nearly fourteen foot height to stand upright inside it.

"How's that?" Paul asked.

"We've seen pyromancy before, but she's got something more interesting," Craig explained, "She can do it to things she touches and doesn't get burned. Considering that she's a werewolf, not angel or Fae that's quite something. If it has a spell written on it, then that's how she casts the spell. Lets her step outside the limits we've seen of most practitioners."

Craig past over some photos, which Paul went through, until stopping on one. "What's with the shoes?"

"Ain't that a kicker?" Craig replied, "We don't know. She doesn't even have to memorize incantations or hand gestures. In fact, the book she burned was a work of fiction, but the story had a short collection of spells, and she cast them all right there on the spot. I'm getting reports from as far as California regarding the effects."

"You're kidding me," Paul breathed in disbelief.

"Nope," Craig asserted, his eyes not wavering from the captivating young brunet with burgundy dress sitting in the interview room. "She doesn't seem ideologically driven or criminally prone, but the 52nd CST insisted on detaining her here until somebody figures out what else to do about her."

"And you volunteered me," Paul ventured.

"Didn't have to," Craig denied, "You're so well known that Lieutenant Colonel McMaster requested you by name. You got the duty to talk to her and find out what she's all about."

"I'll get started," Paul said, and then nodded to the guard to buzz him into the room.

Paul borrowed a chair large enough for himself and entered holding it in front. Rather than place the chair on the opposite side of the table, Paul set it against the far wall and sat down. "My name's Paul Appelbaum. I've come to talk with you, if you're okay with that."

"Are you waiting for me to tell you my name?" she asked.

"No, they gave me the file and I read it there," Paul replied.

"Oh, you're going to be honest about what you know," she remarked.

"I didn't see a reason not to be," Paul forthrightly said, "I don't see us as a threat to each other. I'd like to think you'll agree with that in time."

"How long do they want to keep me here?" she inquired.

"They're worried about what you can do," Paul didn't immediately answer, "However, I want to reassure them that you're not intending to hurt anyone."

"Why?" she pressed with the counter query.

"Some of us are given something special and unexpected," Paul started to share. "You have an amazing gift, which is something I can understand."

"You have power too," she wasn't asking this time.

"Yes," Paul admitted, "And, like yourself, it just fell into my lap. I had some practice, but nothing on the order of what was handed to me. Granted, it's a bit different from yours."

"You were in Columbus weren't you," she again stated, rather than questioned.

"I was," Paul confessed and nodded. "The, ah, burning buildings. Is your pyromancy anything like that?"

"It...," she paused from discomfort, "It's different from that, you know, more like the starter motor of a car?"

"Ah, I see," Paul accepted with better understanding. "Fire is the catalyst. That's a fascinating approach."

"Shouldn't you be writing this down?" she gave a quizzical look at his motionless hands.

"This isn't a deposition," Paul promised, "And you don't have to give up your secret to me. I got my hands full figuring out what I've been granted already. That thing with the book. Have you been to California?"

"I've always wanted to go there, but no," she replied, becoming more open with him.

"I've done some conferences there, but never got out to see the sights myself," Paul offered up in trade. "I don't know if you know this, but there is now a lake that returned because of what you did. A number of farms out there really needed a miracle, and you made it happen for them."

"I was trying something out, and didn't know what to expect," she revealed.

"Have you read that book?" Paul asked.

"Used to read it a lot when I was in junior high," she replied, "That copy was a bit tattered, and I figured I'd try to bring some of it into the real world."

"You succeed," Paul told her, "You seem like a caring person. I can envision others using this gift for less altruistic motives. You don't get angry with people easily, do you?"

"I could, but it just doesn't seem worth it," she answered, looking distant. "If anyone got hurt...."

"No," Paul hastily interrupted, holding his massive hands up to her. "You didn't harm anyone. Just startled a few people and made some unexpected changes. I'll be honest with you. People were worried that you were part of a dangerous group that was in Columbus."

"I heard about them, but I don't think they'd like me," she said quietly, and looked at her hands in her lap.

"It's true," Paul agreed, "They harbored distrust of... of your caste. Also, you don't seem like the sort of person who would do those kinds of things. Candice Ibarra, I'm going to tell them that I think you can be released. If you like, we can talk further about your talents. I can help you explore it safely. You don't have to answer right away, just think about it."

Paul produced a card, minuscule in his fingers, and passed it over to Candice, who accepted it and offered her first slight smile since he'd entered the room. "Thank you."


End file.
